Shoot Me!
by JerseySue
Summary: Steph thinks it might be fun to host Thanksgiving dinner.  Then again...  Another goofy short from the archives.


Shoot Me!

By: JerseySue

Not mine, not making money. Written a few years back for a Thanksgiving challenge on PP.

I was sitting at the kitchen counter in our 7th floor apartment, feeling more than a little lightheaded. For some unknown, god forsaken, dumb-ass reason, I, Stephanie Plum (Soon to be Manoso) decided to host Thanksgiving this year. I think…. no, I KNOW, I had, a momentary lapse of sanity when I decided this. But I figured with Ella's guidance, I could pull it off. She was my ace in the hole.

Notice I said _was_. She is currently sick as a dog with the flu from hell.

And Thanksgiving is three days away!

So here I sit, glaring at my phone like it had just sprouted horns and was laughing at me. The damn thing wouldn't stop ringing! I had invited just our immediate families and the core team. I was thinking 18, maybe 20 people. A lot but, hey, with Ella's help we would have handled it, and the more the merrier right? Ha! Remember that stupid shampoo commercial from the 70's, "they'll tell two friends, and they'll tell two friends, and they'll tell two friends." *sigh*

As I look down at my mission log (Ranger humor. Jerk!) the head count has climbed to a staggering 50 people! 50 freaking people! How in the hell am I going to host 50 freaking people!

By. My. Self!

Ok, Steph, breath. There has GOT to be a solution. I walked into the bedroom to try my thinking position. I could use one of the ovens on 4 for the extra turkey. Then there were all the extra side dishes…. I got up and passed out to the living room and back a few times, getting faster at each pass. I was really starting to overheat and my breathing was getting a little panicked. I ran into the kitchen and stuck my head in the freezer to try to cool off and calm myself down. Ah, much better. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

"Babe?"

"Yes Ranger?" This came out kinda of muffled, as I had my head snuggled up to my two other favorite men, Ben and Jerry. I'm pretty sure I was finding my zone.

"What are you doing with your head in the freezer?"

"Finding my zone."

" Babe, you don't have a zone."

That's it! Pseudo zone is gone, back to panic mode!

"Raaaanger!" I whined and resumed pacing. "What am I going to do! Tank invited Lula then Lula told Douggie and Mooner. Douggie and Mooner told Carl, Eddie & Big Dog when we took them down to the station the other day and now they all want to come! With. Their. Families!"

"Well, that's not to bad Babe. We can handle a few extra people." Silly, silly man.

"Oh no Batman, it gets worse! Do you know how many cousins you have? Well? Do you! A MILLION! And they all invited themselves!" I glanced at Ranger as I made another pass by him. I am assuming it was my last comment that lightened his completion from Cuban delight to sickly ogre.

"And your family is so way worse than mine! I've been on the phone for the last 4 hours with every Manoso from here to Timbucktoo trying to survive multiple Cuban Inquisitions! Oh, and to say that no, I wouldn't mind if they come to Thanksgiving dinner, and of course they can bring their families! Ranger! What are we going to do!" I ran to the freezer again. In through the nose, out through the mouth…

When I felt I could breathe properly again, I turned to Ranger with an eyebrow raised. Oh shut up! So it was both.

"Well?"

His eyes were big as saucers and panic had defiantly set in! In two long strides Ranger had his face in the freezer and was doing breathing exercises.

Oh shit. Guess the thought of the bat-family descending en' mass was a little too much for my unshakeable hero. Who'da thought that the Manoso clan was Batman's kryptonite.

After a few minutes he came out of the freezer, took one last deep breath, returning to his zone then scrunched his eyebrows.

He rubbed his chin thinking.

I knew I could count on him, he plans the take down of third world countries, surely he can figure out one domestic snafu.

"Hummm" he says. "Well, to start _**I think you're gonna need a bigger turkey**_."

Gobsmacked, I just stared at him. As it looked like that was all he had, I shook my head and mumbled "Shoot me. Just shoot me."

Drastic times call for drastic measures.

I picked up the phone and called the best of the best.

A true superhero.

Someone unshakeable during the most dire of domestic emergencies.

A true deity of culinary delights.

"Mom? Help! I need you!"


End file.
